Father Abel Goes to Jail
by Master of the Boot
Summary: Father Abel Nightroad has gone to jail. Watch as he tries to survive his cellmate and preserve his virginity.


Father Abel goes to jail

Disclaimer: I own neither Trinity Blood nor nay of the other franchises that may appear in this. Do not sue or take this story down.

Abel Nightroad was in a pickle, no two ways about it. Everything stemmed from the events that took place around nine o'clock this evening. That was when the Methuselah named Ion Fortuna demanded that Abel run down to the local liquor store and buy a bottle of Jack Daniels and a six pack of Corona.

At the time, Abel had been watching his favorite television show, "_The Adventures of Jack O'Neill_." He'd been in no mood to pull himself away from the TV, especially for something as sinful as buying alcohol. Lord knew that stuff was dangerous where vampires were involved.

Abel had resisted, and Ion in all his haughty arrogance had chewed Abel's ear off twelve times over. So Abel had proposed a compromise, he would go and buy the booze for Ion, but only under the condition that Ion come with him and that he leave only during the commercial break.

Things went smoothly enough, until Ion realized that Abel had only enough money to buy the Jack Daniels and Corona separately but not enough to buy both.

Abel told Ion to pick one or the other, but the stubborn high born Methuselah had other ideas.

_Abel said to Ion, "I've only got four dinars (why is it always four dinars?) So I can only get one or the other. Better get a move on, commercial break is half over. I want to see Jack O'Neill fight the Snake Aliens from Egypt." _

_Ion's voice was full of vinegar and fire, "Hold fast, Vatican Dog, we shall not leave until I receive my Jack of Daniels and a pack of six Corona."_

_Abel lowered his voice, "But Ion, I can't pay for both. You're not saying that we should _steal_ the stuff. Because I can't do that." _

_Ion looked at Abel as though he were stupid, "Watch and learn, father, watch and learn." The Methuselah Noble sauntered over to the counter and stared the clerk in the eye. "You, Terran, we are purchasing some of thy products and thou are going to give us a discount." _

_Abel begged his companion, "Please Ion, don't do this. I'll never see if Jack O'Neill kisses Samantha if I get arrested." _

_Ion held up his hand, "Silence Abel, we know what it is we do." He went on, not noticing that the clerk had already hit a silent alarm button. "So, art thou going to give us the discount that may allow us to purchase all of the alcohol we desire?"_

_Abel tried one last time to reason with Ion, "Look, Ion, just please stop this insanity. It's thirty seconds until commercial is over. Just pick one and let's go." _

_Ion shot Abel a dirty look, "Do not mock us Abel!" With that, he took off his left shoe and slammed it down on the counter, "GIVE US THE LIQUOR, TERRAN! OR I SHALL LEAVE THIS PLACE IN RUINS!"_

_That was when Abel heard the sounds of police sirens grow closer, "Ion, I think we're in trouble." But when he turned around, Ion and the Jack Daniels were gone in a blur of speed. _

_And Abel was left behind to deal with the cops. _

Now, Abel was being shown to the jail cell that he would be staying in before the trial. With a quick push, Abel found himself inside said jail cell. "Um . . . aren't you supposed to read me my rights?"

SLAM! The cell door shutting was the only response Abel got.

Abel tried his best to sound optimistic, "Okay the, I'll just wait here." Vaguely he was aware that he had a cellmate. Tired from the long day and disappointed at having missed the last half of _The Adventures of Jack O'Neill_, Abel threw himself onto the hard prison bunk.

For a moment, he surveyed his cellmate, who was standing in the corner and looking in. His cellmate was a large man, seven feet tall, built like a pillar and probably weighed five hundred pounds. Abel tried to talk to his cellmate, "I've had a rough day, how about you? Is the food any good around here?"

Alexander Anderson turned around and surveyed the fresh meat; fresh, tasty meat. The priest in question was tall, thin, pale and had the most gorgeous white hair Anderson had ever seen. At Abel's question he grinned, "A rough day, eh? Well ah've had a splendid, sextastic day and I feel like sharin' it wi' ye."

Abel sat up on the prison bunk, "You know, I don't mean to sound offensive to you, but you really shouldn't wear such a big golden cross like that. It looks gaudy."

Anderson's good mood evaporated like rubbing alcohol. "Ye're sittin on ma bunk" he snarled.

In response to Anderson's sudden anger, Abel stood up and began to apologize, "Oh is it? I'm ever so sorry, I didn't know."

"Shut up." Anderson grabbed Abel by the hair and threw him across the room. With a thud, the inactivated Crusnik slammed headfirst into the concrete wall. Anderson leaned against the bars, he was angry now, but he was still lonely. "Take yer pants off."

Abel shook off the effects of the concrete wall and looked at Anderson with something akin to shock and fear, "Huh?" Maybe because of the impact he'd misheard this guy. Was he serious? Was he insane?

"What're ye waitin for?" Anderson's voice promised pain of a very specific type.

Abel shakily got up, quite nervous now, "But I'm a priest, and so are you. And I don't even know your name." Abel really didn't want to hurt this man, but if he wanted to avoid getting the integrity of his asshole compromised then he'd have to either fight or stall.

Anderson turned around and started to fiddle with his belt buckle, "Ma name is Ben Dover."

Abel held out his hand as if to shake Anderson's hand and began to step away from his cellmate, "Hi Ben, I'm Father Abel Nightroad. Uh, he-he, you do know that I'm a guy, right?"

Anderson closed the distance between him and the white haired pretty boy, "That dinnae matter, ah'm still going te fuck ye."

Abel's back finally hit the wall, nowhere else to run now. In his nervous state, Abel tried to stall Anderson with small talk, "What are you in for, Ben?"

"Ah ete a baby."

Yep, it was official, this guy was completely insane. "Well, there's no crime in that, I'm trying to cut back myself." Anderson put his large hands on Abel's shoulders, if Anderson blinked the wrong way now, Abel was going to release his Crusnik restrictions and get mediaeval on Anderson.

Anderson grinned again, "Always nervous, always apologizin', always optimistic; ye will make the perfect gimp."

Before Paladin Anderson could get his head ripped off and handed to him by Father Nightroad, the cell door open.

The guard called to Paladin Anderson, "Time for your transfer, Anderson. Even Maxwell couldn't keep you out of the cooler after the latest baby eating thing." The guard guffawed at Anderson as two other guards put him in regenerator proof handcuffs.

As they hauled him away, Abel called to him, "Oh Ben, if I don't get a Valentines Day card, I'll be very sad."

Anderson snarled as he was hauled off to serve five to ten years.

The guard who had taunted Anderson turned to Abel, "Alright skinny, you get one phone call."

Abel bounced up and down, "Oh boy, now I can call my friends and get out of here!"

The Crusnik priest popped his remaining dinars into the pay phone and was about to dial a number when he had a change of heart, "I can't drag Esther into this whole mess." He wondered for a moment as to who he could call. Caterina; no, she'd probably be mad at him for supposedly robbing a liquor store. The Professor; no, he was in Rome building a new mecha. The answer then dawned on him, "I know! I'll call Spike!"

_11:29 pm, Spike's apartment_

Spike had it good, not as good as it used to be, but still good. He had a fridge full of blood packs and beer, a studio apartment and more importantly, a girlfriend with large boobs and not much brains. She was everything that Harmony Kendall was and much more. She was no Buffy, but she was the next best thing.

Ever since the shitstorm with the Circle of the Black Thorn had blown over, Spike decided that he should spend the next century or so kicking back and fighting for fun and instead of saving the world.

And the greatest thing of all, that annoying poof Angel wasn't here to bug him all the time with his angsty shit.

Suddenly the telly rang, naturally Spike ignored it. The trendy answering machine tape began to play a message that parodied Beethoven.

_Nobody's here, nobody's here._

_Nobody's here_

_Nobody's here_

On the other end of the line Abel cried out in frustration, "CURSE YOU, TRENDY ANSERING MACHINE MESSAGES!"

Spike was halfway through clipping his toe nails when he heard the desperate voice of Abel Nightroad, "Thanks a lot Spike! I just wasted my one stupid phone call on . . ."

Before Abel could go any further, Spike dropped his nail clippers and quickly answered the phone. In his own British way, Spike reassured Abel, "Take it easy, princess. I'm home, what'd ya need?"

In prison, Abel breathed a sign of relief, "Oh Spike, thank goodness that you're here. Listen, I'm in big trouble, I've been sent to jail."

Spike was surprised, Abel, one of the squeakiest clean blokes he knew was in jail? The world was truly full of surprises. "You're in jail, eh? Look out the window."

Abel did so, and saw that Spike's apartment was just across the street from the jail and that he could actually see the peroxide blonde vampire. "Oi mate, how's the establishment been treating ya?"

Abel jumped up and down like an angry poodle, "Spike, just get over here and bring fifty bucks for bail!"

Spike was truly shocked now, "Fifty quid? What'd you do, kill the Pope?"

_Three Days Later_

To say the least, trial went badly. Abel wanted to be honest with the Judge, but Spike had other ideas. The Vatican refused to pay for a lawyer, the expense was too great. Thus Abel was forced to pick Spike as his lawyer.

Initially Abel had been questioning Spike's ability as a lawyer, but Spike just laughed and said, "Mate, I used to work for Wolfram and Hart. I know what I'm doing."

As clever as it was, Spike's attempt at bribing the Judge backfired disastrously. As things did with Spike, the overall climate turned foul. The moment that Spike kicked the Judge in the stones and played let's-beat-up-the-jury, Abel had no delusions about what was going to happen next.

Now though, it was good to have a shower. Honestly, the prison shower was nothing like the ones on TV. It looked very clean.

Abel sang as he soaped up his body, cheerful as anybody in prison could be. And why wouldn't he be cheerful? He only had thirty days to spend here, hardly a month. As for his cellmate, his luck had really turned up on that one. Edward Cullen was the best cellmate a man could as for. He and Abel had some great tickle fights during their brief time together.

His song over, Abel began to shampoo his long hair and whistle an upbeat tune.

Suddenly though, fear began to spread through the shower room. Even the usual sexual dominants averted their eyes in fear. Alexander Anderson stroke through the shower room, towel around his waist. With a smooth motion, Anderson took off his towel to reveal another towel underneath the first. He took a few more giant strides and took of his towel to reveal another towel under that one.

Father Abel Nightroad wasn't an idiot, regardless of how people perceived him. He could smell the fear, like a gumbo left out in the sun for three weeks.

Anderson took off his seventh towel to reveal an eighth towel.

Edward whispered to Abel, "Anderson is coming; you'd better get out while you still can."

A determined look creeped up on Abel's face, "Edward, leave now, I'll deal with Anderson." With some reluctance, Edward trusted the words of his cellmate.

Anderson took off his twenty-third towel.

Abel whispered to himself, "Crusnik 02, 10 Percent Limitations, approved." Abel stepped under the hot water, rinsing himself off. He promptly stepped out and secured a towel around his waist as Anderson took off his seventy-fourth towel.

Anderson was finally naked after taking off a seemingly infinite number of towels around his waist. The white haired priest turned around and smiled one of those goofy smiles that Anderson just wanted to smash. "How's it going?"

Anderson's grin was so white and shiny it could blind a man. With a squeeze of his hand, the soap hit the ground behind Abel. "Would ye pick that up fer me?"

Abel smiled, "No problem, Ben, or should I say Anderson." Abel bent over to pick up the soap . . .

. . . And Anderson stopped his grinning. When Abel's towel fell off, he saw that the Crusnik's butt and groin were now encased in a layer of black bone covered in multiple razor sharp barbs and blades. Abel held out the soap, "What's the matter?"

Anderson snarled and walked away, he'd have to find other meat to appease his desires.

Thoroughly pleased with himself, Abel picked up his towel and began to dry off. As he exited the shower he heard a great commotion. Naturally, he turned around to see what the matter was.

Convicts were flying left and right, struck by some force of nature. Cons left and right were getting their heads kicked in. One inmate was struck so hard that he flew right over Abel's shoulder.

And then, surrounded by beaten and bleeding convicts, Abel saw Ion. Abel's feelings were mixed, half of him was glad to see a familiar face here. The other half of him was glad that Ion was able to pay for his crime.

The effeminate Methuselah noble grabbed a bar of soap before hollering to Abel, "Priest, I will join thee when we are cleansed."

One of the guards tapped Abel with the butt of his shotgun, indicating that it was time for Father Nightroad to leave the showers and move on.

As he turned to leave, Nightroad saw Ion begin to scrub his smooth, hairless body. But then Ion dropped the soap. If you ignored the lack of breasts and the penis, Ion really did look like a girl, a bad tempered girl but still a girl. Every single other inhabitant of the shower had been pummeled to oblivion, so in theory Ion should have been fine. Except he wasn't, or he wouldn't be in ten seconds.

One of the inmates had submitted to Ion's beating in order to lure the sweet lad into a false sense of security. That inmate had taken the thrashing handed down to him with ease and now rose just as easily behind his unsuspecting prey.

As the guard herded him away, Abel Nightroad saw Alexander Anderson rise up behind Ion, sans infinite towels.

He screamed towards his friend, "ION, WATCH OUT BEHIND YOU!" But it was too little too late. Ion screamed in agony as Anderson did to him what he wanted to do to Abel.

Abel winced for a moment before screaming frantically for help. Ion was going to need some serious psychological counseling when this was all over. Not to mention he'd need some rectal surgery.

I notice that the theme of guys doing each other seems to run in my one shots. Have you noticed? Whether you noticed or not, I'd like to personally send you my gratitude for reading and reviewing. Glad you had fun. Check out my other work if you like.

Ta

Master of the Boot


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